When You Get Tricked By Instagram

September 30, 2015by Louise De Vaney

There are thousands of ‘foodies’ Instagram accounts out there, but who is actually going out there confirming that each dish is just as good as its filter looks? The right lighting and editing could probably make me want to fuck a pb&j , so I should have know that most food pictures look better than they taste.

So, I had been stalking this hot dog food truck in Gold Coast for months. Real life hot dogs and cheese fries in Australia? In a place that is usually stingy on the cheese (like, almost constantly), I had high hopes to get back to my American roots, just for a moment.

This food trucks’ daily Instagram posts reminded me how I could have been shoving a juicy, cheesy, dog in my mouth at that very moment, had I not been on the toilet looking at my phone. Food trucks add another element to the hunt, since I was checking every weekend to see if they would be parked even remotely close to my awaiting mouth.

Finally, I found them! The truck was at an opera festival on the beach, where it was unfortunately raining (yes, it was all a weird combination). I’d half expected to see hordes of my fellow Insta-stalkers– hey, this place gets thousands of likes, after all– but there was literally no one within a 50-foot radius. This should have been my first sign.

I ordered what the woman working there suggested–North Carolina BBQ dog and Cajun cheese fries. As someone who has lived in New Orleans for four years I was like fuck yeah, bring it on.

Flash forward two minutes to me attempting to tear apart a mass of blow torched swiss cheese and soggy chips. Not Cajun. And the tasteless North Carolina BBQ dog? Not. Fukkin’. BBQ.

At the end of it, my massacred, half-eaten food looked like a lap band before picture compared to its’ beautiful Instagram evil twin. I kicked myself for succumbing to my Insta-obsessions, and for believing social media would show anything but the very best. Bullshit.

Next time I find a doughnut or taco that I absolutely must have in my mouth, I’ll remember how betrayed I felt by cheese fried and order that doughnut with a grain of salt.

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